


settlement

by orphan_account



Series: slippage/settlement [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, M/M, Phone Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 17:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It might be weird, might be a little bit fucked-up, but it's not like they have to tell anybody about it. It's theirs. It could always be theirs.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	settlement

**Author's Note:**

> It's a sequel, but there's still no orgy—just lots of adorably dysfunctional OT5 co-dependency.

They sleep like this, all piled on top of each other on the three-seater sofa, Liam extracting himself briefly to go fetch a blanket so that they don't get cold. It really shouldn't be comfortable, and actually it _isn't_ , as far as Niall is concerned anyway—but it doesn't matter. It feels like they need to stay together, right now, and just being in the same room isn't good enough, they need to share body heat and be able to feel each other's skin.

Niall wakes up to shifting bodies all around him and Liam shaking his shoulder, and he can't help but laugh, the situation dawning on him in the clear light of day now. It's seven and they've got an interview soon, and they're all sprawled on top of each other, sticky and gross, two of them utterly naked and the other three in the same clothes as last night. He's got an awful crick in his neck and a weird ache in his lower back where he thinks someone must have had their knee all night, and he doesn't feel well-rested at all, but somehow he feels okay about it all. They're all here with him, so he can get through this. They can get through this together.

 

There's a rush of getting ready, then, everyone disentangling themselves and getting unsteadily to their feet. Zayn wanders off to his own room in a daze, and then decides he actually wants a shower before they go out. But it quickly becomes clear that _everyone_ feels this way, and they really don't have time to take turns. And maybe there's a part of them that's not quite ready to separate just yet, because they all find themselves squeezed in there together, and luckily it's a huge wet room rather than a little cubicle but they're still bumping into each other, fighting to get under the shower's spray.

The whole day, they don't really leave each other's sides. It feels like they need to touch more than usual, like last night has changed something and they need to reassure each other it's okay. They find themselves hanging off each other much more, so affectionate that one of the interviewers even comments on it. It's a busy day and there isn't really any time to reflect. All Zayn knows is that when one of them leaves for a moment—even if it's just to go buy a bottle of Coke or nip to the loo—something feels off, and isn't on again until they're reunited. It's always been like that, to a certain extent, but this feels bigger, like something has really changed, and he hopes it's just the aftermath of last night and not something more serious.

 

Liam can't help but be concerned by the way they're all clinging to each other all day. It feels like there's an odd pang in his chest if he's not close enough to the others, and he can't stop remembering last night, replaying parts of it in his head, going red when he remembers he's in public.

That night they stay up way too late, all curled up in front of the TV again. The same movie from last night is playing and this time they attempt to pay attention to it. A part of him feels like it might all repeat itself, the circumstances so similar, but it seems like they're all on the same wavelength, a little overwhelmed by the events of last night and just needing to wind down for now, be in each other's company the way they used to.

The movie ends and then there's channel-flicking, watching silly countdowns on music channels, and Liam starts to feel like no one wants to be the first one to get up and go to bed. And they _can't_ sleep here, not again—for one thing he's still kind of stiff and bruised from last night, and for another it just can't be healthy—and so he's the first to move, to start herding the others into their own rooms. It hurts to do it, but it has to be done.

 

Harry follows Louis into their room—the five rooms are really just a courtesy these days and no one bothers to pretend they don't share every night anyway—and he just wants to get straight into bed, he's so tired. But there's a part of him that's still antsy, anxious, like something is wrong and he doesn't quite know what, and it nags at him. The two of them get ready for bed mostly in silence, and then curl up under the sheets, holding each other close. 

Ten minutes pass and Harry still can't relax properly, and then it's twenty, and then half an hour, and he presses a kiss to Louis's cheek, trying to wake him gently in case he's already dozed off. "Hmm?" Louis murmurs.

Harry entwines his legs with Louis's. "Can't sleep."

"Me neither."

This has happened before; sometimes after a really busy day they have difficulty winding down. It helps to keep close, cuddle and calm down, but they've been doing that with the others all night and it hasn't helped. Usually, then, the last resort is sex, if they've still got enough energy. Louis reaches down under the covers and between Harry's legs, and Harry stirs against his hand.

"Do you want to?" Louis asks.

"Mm," Harry nods, reaching out for him too. But he gropes at Louis's hip for a moment under the covers, clumsy, causing Louis to chuckle at him—and then something seems wrong, neither of them can get fully hard and their rhythm seems off. The position is so familiar to them, everything about this is—but for some reason they're uncoordinated tonight, and it's awkward, and it doesn't take long for them to give up.

They lie there in silence, just staring at each other, confused. "You don't think," says Harry hesitantly. "I mean, what you said last night—"

"I was kidding," Louis says quickly. "Just wanted to make Liam blush."

"Yeah, but—" Harry insists, frowning, "I mean—we're never, we're never off like this, are we?"

 

Louis thinks about it, and realises Harry's right—in all the time they've been together, they've never really had a night like this. They've been a bit clumsy with each other before, in the early stages when they were still learning how each other's bodies worked, but everything clicked into place before long and they didn't look back.

"Maybe we're just really tired," says Harry in a small voice.

"Then why can't we sleep?" Louis replies. He knows what they have to do, and shuffles out of bed right away, pulling Harry up by the hand and then pulling off the duvet to wrap around the both of them, the hotel chilly in the early hours of the morning.

Louis huddles close to him and sets off next door, into Niall's room. "Are you kidding?" Harry asks, chuckling softly in disbelief but stepping in time with Louis so as not to trip over the duvet that trails along with them. "This is—I don't even know what this is, but—shit."

"I know, but—just to see, all right? We're not gonna know otherwise. And I don't want to never be able to get off again."

Harry giggles, and they push the door to Niall's room open quietly, trying not to fall over each other as they pad inside. They don't even have to say anything; Niall is sitting up almost instantly, flicking on his bedside lamp and blinking at them blearily.

"What the?"

"We can't sleep," says Louis, deciding to start off a little vague. "Can you come to our room?"

Niall looks at them for a long moment, like he's thinking.

 

The truth is, he can't sleep either, and it was starting to really get on his nerves. He kept feeling like the others were really far away, even though they obviously _aren't_ , and then he started thinking about Harry and Louis curled up in bed together and something in his heart started to ache. He wanted to be there with them. He imagined their bodies all tangled together, the two of them sleeping soundly—and actually, it's kind of a relief that they're struggling too.

"Alright," he says, slipping out of bed. "Are we gonna get the others?"

 

Zayn is lying awake too, and he grins when he sees Harry, Louis, and Niall standing there in the doorway, looking at him expectantly.

"Can't sleep," Louis says simply. "Up you get."

"Can't _shag_ , more likely," says Zayn, because he can tell by the frustration written on their faces. He knows maybe he should be a little more concerned about this happening again, but he can't bring himself to be; he's just _glad_ that it's not over.

He gets out of bed and grabs an armful of pillows and blankets, and joins the three of them as they shuffle towards Liam's room.

 

Liam is lying on his back, wide awake and staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of whispers and shuffling coming from the next room. He's really not all that surprised when the door slides open and he's faced with a huddle of boys and blankets. They've all got dark circles under their eyes and they look anxious, and so even though he _knows_ this can't be a good idea, he finds himself getting up right away, gathering up his own bedding and just following them all back through to Harry and Louis's room without asking any questions.

It's almost like a part of him knew this would happen, was waiting for it.

They all pile onto the floor at the foot of the bed, because it seems like it'll give them a bit more flexibility—although the truth is it's not like they need a lot of space, all immediately cuddling up close to one another in the heap of bedding and pillows they've brought through. Harry and Louis are leaning against the footboard, already looking a little brighter and happier.

Niall looks the sleepiest, and he settles down with his head on Louis's legs like they're a cushion, pulling one of the blankets up to his neck and smiling dopily up at him. Zayn is leaning back against the wall, his hand resting on Niall's hip, and Liam is pressed right up close to him, so drowsy all of a sudden that he feels his head could just drop onto Zayn's shoulder and he could nod off right then and there.

But then Zayn says, yawning, "Alright, we're here. Have at it," and Harry and Louis shift a little closer to each other under all the sheets and blankets, and Liam watches the movement, their hands slipping beneath.

 

This time, when Harry feels the brush of Louis's hand, he swells almost instantly, hot and sensitive and aching for further touch. Relief floods through him and he takes Louis in hand too, and Louis makes a little pleased sound, kissing him gently. It feels so good now, _right_ , and Harry can't understand it—the only difference is that the others are here, and it shouldn't matter so much but it _does_. His eyelids flicker and in the dim light of the room he can see them all watching with fond, sleepy smiles.

He holds Louis a little tighter, and they're so in sync now, sliding soft and easy. Harry clenches his fist around the blankets and then Liam reaches out and takes his hand, like he did last night, and Harry laughs, letting their fingers intertwine and enjoying the way Liam looks so bashful. Under all the covers, he feels Zayn stretching his foot out until it bumps against his own, and he smiles happily to himself, burying his face in Louis's neck and breathing shallow against his skin, stroking.

 

It's slow; there's no rush now. Louis just wants to enjoy this feeling, the five of them together, doing this again.

"You're moving too much," complains Niall, his head being rocked from side to side on Louis's knees.

"Too bad, babe," says Louis, pressing his lips to Harry's forehead and slowly bringing him to the edge. They come within a couple of minutes of each other, and Niall cheers for them groggily and then promptly falls asleep.

"Thanks, you lot," says Harry, his voice a tired, satisfied rumble, and he snuggles closer to Louis, both of them wiping their hands on all the sheets because there's no way they're going to move, now, not from this cosy cuddle, so warm and comforting.

 

It happens again, and again, and again. They keep their pile of bedding at the foot of Louis's bed, and give up entirely on the pretence of going off into separate rooms when the night comes. Sometimes Harry and Louis won't have sex, too tired or not in the mood, but the others will always be there, and it's almost scary how quickly Niall grows used to it, the strange feeling of sleeping next to four other bodies, the wriggling and shifting throughout the night. It just—it feels completely normal, before long, and he keeps forgetting that there's anything strange about it, forgets that it's something they can't talk about.

He has a bruise on his forearm where Zayn accidentally kicked him, hard, in his sleep, and an interviewer points it out, and without thinking he tells the truth about its origin, causing Liam to give him a stern look and the interview to crack up laughing. 

"You share a bed?" she giggles. "So sweet! Is there something more we should know about you two?"

 _Try us five_ , Niall thinks, thankful he didn't slip up and mention that they've all got bruises from Zayn's nighttime flailings, or that sometimes Harry snores so loudly they _all_ have to kick him to shut him up. 

"Just last night, just last night," Louis cuts in quickly, patting Zayn and Niall on their shoulders as he adopts a faux-serious tone of voice. "It's a private issue; they haven't worked it out between themselves yet so we'd prefer to keep it out of the press for the time being."

Louis winks at the interviewer and she is giggly and bemused, and the internet is going wild by the afternoon.

 

It seems like every time it happens, it feels more right, and that shouldn't be possible. Zayn didn't think they even really had any barriers in their friendship to begin with, but it's like they keep breaking them down, over and over. And at the same time, they keep growing closer, shutting out the rest of the world, not keeping in touch with friends and family back home as well as they used to, often not bothering to leave the hotels except for planned appointments. Because they don't _need_ to; they don't need anybody or anything else, just each other.

Sometimes it's not even about the watching, sometimes it's just the comfort of being there while it happens. Sometimes they'll all curl up on the floor watching _Friends_ while Louis rides Harry beside them, or they'll all just be busy doing other things, only stopping occasionally to tease Harry about the sounds he's making or to wipe the sweat tenderly from Louis's forehead. It just becomes normal. Routine. They get used to it so quickly— _too_ quickly, perhaps—and Liam voices his concerns sometimes but never seems able to act on them.

 

Time passes too quickly and before long the tour is coming to an end. They've got a break before they start working on the new album, and Liam feels panicky and short of breath whenever he thinks about it. The idea of them all having to go back home and split off from Harry and Louis is unbearable, even though he knows they'll still be so close. It won't be the same, and he's afraid of how easy it will be to stick with their pattern, to end up staying over at Harry and Louis's every night, and how hard it will be to leave in the morning. He's worried they might end up just moving in, and the thought of it makes his heart ache with want, but he knows they _can't_ —how would they explain it? What will he do when his family wants to come visit? 

And it can't be healthy. They have to relearn how to cope without each other, or else they'll never be able to, and he knows that it can't go on like this forever.

The worst part is that Harry and Louis—if not Zayn and Niall as well—just seem to take it for granted that this is going to continue even when they get home. They're invited round the very first night and Liam has to speak up, say that perhaps they should try a few days without each other and see how it goes. The others are clearly heartbroken—and Harry seems mad at him—but they do seem to understand, have all had the same undercurrent of worry that only Liam refused to ignore.

He's never felt so alone, in his flat that night, unable to concentrate on a single thing and finding himself wandering aimlessly through rooms, unfocused. He's constantly wondering what the others are doing, and the thought of Harry and Louis together, without them, is painful. He doesn't sleep that night at all, feels wretched.

 

Harry is moody and irritable, keeps prowling around the flat and not being able to concentrate on anything, leaving Louis to unpack for him. He's angry at Liam and he thinks maybe he shouldn't be, but it's instinctive, because Liam's not letting him have what he wants. What he wants is for the others to be here, now and all the time, and he doesn't care how unrealistic or unhealthy it is because it _works_ for them and that's all that matters. It might be weird, might be a little bit fucked-up, but it's not like they have to tell anybody about it. It's theirs. It could always be theirs.

That night in bed with Louis, they kiss out of habit, but it feels wrong and Harry is tired and cross and rolls over, turning his back on him. They sleep touching each other as little as possible, for the first time in months, and in the morning things feel strained and tense and awkward.

"We have to try get back to normal," Louis pleads with him the following night. "We managed before, right? We can do this."

But they can't; they feel almost like strangers to each other without Zayn and Liam and Niall. They keep trying, but it doesn't work, it's futile, and it just makes Harry feel even worse, like they broke something. It's difficult even to _function_ without the others now; he's grown so used to their constant presence. He wakes up too often in the night and Louis takes forever to drop off, and Louis gets clumsy around the house and Harry ruins everything he tries to cook. Sometimes they fight, bitching at each other over stupid insignificant things like they never really used to. They try not to let it get to them, clinging to each other still because it's something, but Harry's beginning to feel like it's pretty obvious that there's only one thing that will fix this.

 

"I know Liam said we shouldn't see each other, but we can talk, right? There can't be anything bad about that." 

It's been a few nights now and Louis comes up with the idea out of nowhere, perhaps out of desperation. He's been hearing the others' voices in his head—not in like a worrying schizophrenic sort of way, but imagining how they'd respond to the things that he says, picturing their reactions, and it's beginning to drive him crazy.

"You wanna call them?" Harry asks, grinning, and Louis can tell it's half-mocking and half-sympathetic. "Is that even possible? Like a four-way phone call?"

Louis doesn't actually know, but they decide to give it a try—calling Niall and Zayn first and then getting Niall to call Liam. And it works, and just hearing the sound of the other's voices on the end of the line is such a comfort; Louis relaxes immediately, feeling like the tension is draining right out of his body. The best part is the way Liam tries to act like he's annoyed, and totally fails, unable to hide the joy in his voice at hearing the others for the first time in days.

"We miss you," Louis says and the others echo it right back, and Harry snuggles up beside him happily.

It's nice, because as serious as the situation feels, the call is casual—they talk about random crap for twenty minutes and by then they're all yawning, Harry beginning to doze off on Louis's shoulder. It's amazing, the effect it has, so quick and so powerful. He'd thought things were hopeless, and he couldn't have imagined that this—just _this_ —could make such an overwhelming difference. He feels instantly calm, and comfortable, and ready for a long night's sleep.

 

They've never been so dependent on each other, and that's saying something, because Niall knows they've always been pretty clingy. But usually if they've been around each other a lot, for a long time, they actually _want_ a break. It doesn't usually last very long, and they'll miss each other, but this just takes that to a whole different level. It's only been a few days and already they're calling each other, _needing_ to call each other simply to be able to sleep. He guesses they've got into a habit, and he guesses they should probably break it, but it's just so much nicer _not_ to.

He wishes he could see Harry and Louis, though. On tour, it got to the point where he couldn't really wind down without just seeing them make out a little bit. His bedroom—his whole flat—feels so empty without the others here with him and it's strange, and lonely, and the next day he finds himself waiting for the call, not really being able to concentrate on anything until the phone rings.

And there they are, the four of them, their voices flooding him with happiness. Once again, they don't really talk about anything of importance—Liam's in the middle of telling them about how his washing machine broke, which Niall's sure would usually earn him a "cool story bro" and a change of topic, but for some reason tonight they're all listening, just glad to hear his voice even if what he's saying is utterly boring. And then Niall realises that Harry and Louis have been very quiet for a while, and _then_ he hears a sharp intake of breath in the background, and he grins.

"You two are shagging, aren't you?" he says, interrupting Liam.

There's a guilty pause.

 

" _Are_ you?" snorts Zayn, listening close, and then he hears a bark of Harry's hysterical laughter.

"You are!" cries Niall triumphantly. "I knew it."

There's a bit of sheepish laughter, and then Louis says, a bit more serious, "Actually, we haven't been, you know. Able to. Not since we got home."

Zayn isn't sure how to respond to that, and judging by the silence, it seems like Liam and Niall aren't either. The thing is, he knows that's really bad. Like, if you literally can't have sex without your best friends there—or listening in—that has to be fucked up in some sort of fundamental way. He knows that. He's known that all along. But it's really hard to care, because it feels like this thing is for all five of them and it was always meant to be. So why do they _need_ to be able to do it on their own? The others can always be there for them. _Will_ always be there for them.

There's suddenly a sort of whimper from the phone, and Niall's voice says, "Haz is blowing you, isn't he? You always make that noise when—"

"Yeah," Louis says, his voice sort of low and wavery now, and Zayn's always liked that—the way Harry's the only one who can quieten Louis down. "Yeah, feels so good. Like we haven't done it in ages."

 

Liam can remember exactly the last time they did it; after their last performance of the tour, Harry on his knees backstage. Not long ago at all, but he understands what Louis means, because it feels like a different lifetime. _God_ , he misses them. Listening to Louis's heavy breath, he just wants to be there with him, to smooth his hair back and hold him close and watch as Harry takes him all the way in.

The three of them have all gone silent now, listening to Harry and Louis intently, though they can't pick up very much and it's frustrating. Liam is already thinking that this isn't going to work, that they need more than this, but he's still reluctant to give in so soon—he knows that if they all meet up, if they all go round to Harry and Louis's, they might never leave. He wonders frantically about video calls and Skype and it's all so ridiculous, they live in the same block of flats, but—

Louis's breathing is getting more erratic on the other end of the phone. "Are you close?" murmurs Zayn's voice.

"Y-yeah." Louis's voice hitches, and Liam's stomach twists; he wants to be there with them so badly.

"C'mon, Lou," he hears himself saying, softly, and Zayn and Niall join in with silly little sounds of encouragement, and then they hear Louis's familiar, weak moan, and Niall actually cheers, hilariously, causing them all to fall about laughing.

"I love you," comes Louis's voice suddenly, a little slurred, sounding blissfully happy, and Liam's not sure if he's just talking to Harry or to all four of them.

 

Harry grins, crawling back up the bed just in time to hear a responding chorus of _we love you too_ s from the speakerphone. He feels so satisfied; there was something about just listening to the others and their mindless conversation that made everything feel okay, and he and Louis were touching each other before they knew it, Louis bringing Harry off with his hand, quick and easy.

"'s nice, this, innit?" he says into the phone, stretching and settling back against the pillows.

"It could be nicer," Niall points out.

"Yeah, it's kind of tricky just imagining what's happening," says Liam, and then goes silent abruptly, like he's not sure he should have said that, admitted he was creating pictures in his head to go along with what he could hear.

 

"What, did you want a running commentary?" Louis teases, and without thinking he adds, "Might be easier for you all to just come over and see for yourselves, let's be honest here."

There's a long pause. Louis looks at Harry and makes a face, whispers _whoops_ , worried he's taken it too far, that Liam will give them another lecture about why this can't go on.

And then Niall says, "Well, I don't know about you two," addressing Liam and Zayn, "but I'll be there in like. A minute. Just let me get my shoes on."

"Er, yeah," says Zayn after another slight pause, and then he's laughing gently. "Yeah, me too. I'll be round soon."

Louis exchanges another look with Harry, waiting for Liam's response. The thing is, they _need_ Liam's response—Niall and Zayn might sound quite sure of themselves but if Liam says he's not coming, that's it. They need all of them for this to work.

Liam clears his throat on the other end of the line. "I think," he says, and he sounds uncertain, but Louis can hear a slight smile in his voice, "I think maybe we should pack some bags, too. Just in case we end up staying for a bit."

"Good idea, good idea," says Niall, and it sounds like he's already working on it; they can hear him bustling about in the background.

"Yeah," says Louis, looking at Harry sidelong, seeing him smirk. "Yeah, you know. Just in case."


End file.
